The Misadventures of Becca and Edmund
by Almaria
Summary: Alternate Twilight: When Bella meets Edward, she's drawn to his dazzling sparkle.When Becca meets Edmund, things don't go AS smoothly. When time begins to play her game, will Bella be able to draw even, or will time win? ALL HUMAN.
1. Chapter 1

_a/n: So this is my first twi-fic.... damn my obsessive-compulsive nature!_

_Standard disclaimers apply: I own nothing twi related, quite obviously as this is fanfiction! And this be the last time I say this cause it's not gonna change anytime soon!_

* * *

Prologue

Time is expendable. I've always known that.

Minutes, hours, days... it's so irrelevant. After all, it's just pretty writing.

It's what you _do_, that makes time, turns it into something tangible -makes it important. A second can make you, or it can break you – but you gotta have the balls to grab it.

Otherwise it just passes.

_Tick._

Time is precious. I'm realising that.

Minutes, hours, days... They're so significant. They're _oh so_ short.

I'm doing everything I can to make it last. To somehow make it stretch, make it longer. And I'm grabbing seconds. Standing with my arms outstretched, palms open and fingers wide, hoping – just wishing- to catch one. Just one little second.

I'm beginning to think it's too late.

_Tock._

Time is transcendent. I've never fully comprehended that.

Minutes, hours, days... It's so utterly bewildering. Beyond all levels of basic comprehension.

And I'm trying my hardest to figure it out. Because if I get this, if I can just understand how it works... I can stop it. I can make it go backwards. Hell, I can twist it and twine it and bend it to my will like a power crazed scientist. It can't be too hard. It's just space-time continuum after all.

Pity me and physics never really meshed well.

_Tick._

My time is limited. I've already accepted that.

All those minutes, hours, days and _seconds._ They haunt me now.

And it's funny how hindsight always seems to screw you over. You never look back knowing you did things better. You only look back knowing you botched it. You _fucked_ it up good baby, and all the wasted seconds stream by you, flipping you the fingers for a job well screwed. And now _muchacho_, your times a' tick, tick, ticked on out. You a done-lil-darlin. But all things considered, this is probably a good thing.

See, my hearts only got four days left to beat.

_Tock._

* * *

_Intrigued? not intrigued? not even reading!? leave me some lov regardless! go on...._


	2. Chapter 1: Sparkles

* * *

Chapter 1: Sparkles

And so it begins.

The wheels of the plane touched ground at Seattle airport, a little jerkily, but not bad as far as landings go. And I should know. I've been on planes back and forth from Forks since I was four. It's a natural by-product of divorce. Ask anyone in the know, they'll tell you.

It was raining in Seattle. Quelle surprise. It's always rained in Seattle when I've arrived. Hell it's always been raining in Seattle when I've left. It just rains period. Same old, same old.

The only difference this time?

I wouldn't be leaving. Not for two years at least – if my sanity doesn't leave before me that is.

My mom Renee, she's just after getting married. She's a newly-wed with a seventeen year old kid. I was maid of honour of course. She and Phil have been together for years so at this stage it was almost natural progression. I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner. But that's Renee for you. She's always been one to procrastinate. Tomorrow has always been her best friend.

But that's just Renee at a basic level. She's so much more. She's a kaleidoscope of different personas: my mother, my daughter and my best friend, all-in-one.

We have a complicated relationship. Obviously she's the parent, but sometimes she's just my marionette, and me, her puppet-master. When I was younger, it was kinda cool; we were like sisters, always on the same level. But there was a time when I got older, that I resented it. The constant supervision and moral support that Renee required was draining. I wanted a mother for crying out loud, not a parent-cum-child.

But I blame that on teenage hormones, 'cause honestly, Renee's great. I wouldn't trade her for the world. And in her own way, she's sacrificed a lot. So when Phil got the news that he had to hit the road, and the light in my mom's eyes dimmed just that little bit, I knew I had to go.

My time in Arizona was up.

God, I hated time, seemed like I was always fighting it. There's always a race, but time never lets you win. Little tease.

So was I sad? Yes, but Renee deserved this. Despite our twisted symbiotic relationship, she was a protective tigress when she needed to be, and I knew she wouldn't leave me to fend for myself. So I gave Charlie a call, and things just... clicked into place.

Even though I hate Fork's – God, I hate Forks – it's the best present I can give Renee, and that's why I find myself tripping – literally, I'm very clumsy- across the terminals to catch another shaky little flight to Port Angeles. That's where my dad Charlie's gonna pick me up. I'm hoping it's not in his cruiser. But along with being so clumsy it's almost an affliction rather than a fault, I'm also blessed with bad luck. So the odds my friend, not so high.

The flight to Fork's was, as I predicted, shaky and when I landed, duffel bag in tow, there was Charlie - yup- cruiser and all. The hour-long ride back to Fork's was mostly silent, punctuated briefly with small talk. We're very alike, me and Charlie. We're fairly introverted, have a wickedly dry sense of humour, and a tongue that can slice the wick of a candlestick. You shouldn't try getting us angry, neither of us are opposed to sound tongue-lashing.

Charlie's the chief of police in Fork's. They like home-grown talent there, and Charlie, a born and bred Forkian, is the best there is. As expected there's not much trouble to be found. That's the thing about small towns. Everyone knows everyone else's business – and it's the chiefs business to know everything – so it's likely that if you try and rob the one diner in town, the Chief's gonna know it's you. Hell, he's probably having dinner there while you're doing it. So needless to say, Charlie's job is pretty sweet. He does nothing much, and gets paid for doing it.

He's like my frickin idol.

It's just a pity we only had two weeks a year previously to spend together.

When Charlie and Renee had divorced, they'd cited irreconcilable differences. I'd hated that. It was such a frail excuse. So Hollywood. And I wanted them to just try harder, to strap it on and act like parents. But looking back, they were so right. Charlie and Renee were Yin and Yang, but the pieces didn't fit right. They were polar opposites, which explains the connection – and the inevitable combustion.

You always want what's wrong for you.

So Renee took me and moved to Phoenix, Arizona, probably because it's the literal antithesis of Forks. If it was me, I would have picked New Mexico. But hey, each to their own. I'd asked her why she had moved to Phoenix before. She'd answered with a "Why not?" And she had me there. You can't argue with logic like that.

As long as I've known Charlie, he's had his cruiser, so when we pulled up to his house, and I saw the rustic old truck parked out front, I imagined the worst.

Visitors.

_Oh dear shit_, Charlie's thrown a party.

Which was almost unthinkable, cause Charlie's as violently opposed to crowds as I am.

"So what do you think Bell's?"

"Of what?" I asked, still contemplating whether Charlie was actually crazy enough to have a welcome-home-type-shindig.

Hooking a thumb, he pointed to the mammoth parked near the curb, while busying himself in taking my bag out the car.

"The truck?" I asked, bewildered.

"Yeah" Charlie said, slinging my bag round his back, and walking over, "I thought you might like a home-coming present."

My heart actually pounded. Painfully.

"I know it's no beauty" he said sheepishly, uncomfortable with my non-response, "but I know you don't like the cruiser so –"

"No!" I said still all choked up, "Char- Dad, its great! Honestly, I love it!"

And I did.

I turned to him, and in one impetuous movement, hugged him, hard.

"Oh!" Charlie said gruffly, "Well now, I'm glad you like it."

And that was that. Like I said, we're both kind of introverted – possibly even emotionally stunted – so we're not big on lengthy conversations. Add emotions into the equation and its cas complète.

I examined the truck methodically. Starting round back with the wide pick up, to the front with the round, bulging headlights. It was decrepit, rusting and I loved it more than anything else I owned. There was one large seat in the inside and the gear stick jutted out awkwardly from the console. An old yellow air freshener hung forlornly from the rear-view mirror, swinging gently in the blast of wind I'd let in. And it smelt wonderful - like gas and peppermint and something else- Something indescribable. It was like the smell of grass after the rain, or the intoxicating smell of freshly dug earth. It was woodsy and clean and completely unpretentious. I was completely and utterly besotted.

Charlie had put my bag in my room. It hadn't changed much since I'd been there last. A large wooden framed bed took up most of the space in the room, a white washed dresser and wardrobe lined the south wall, bookshelves lined the west and a large window took up most of the east. It would have allowed for great views of sunset, if the sun ever showed. Charlie's house was the last in a row of houses down Wood's Lane. The back yard was surrounded by dense woodland, the trees interspersed with meandering walking trails. Not that I've ever walked them. I tend to fall over a lot.

I had the weekend to adjust before I started in Fork's High School. I had to admit, the thought had me breaking out in sweat. Or lady-like sheen, whichever you prefer. Being the new girl sucked majorly on its own. Being the new girl in the middle of term was downright frightening, and thoughts of fleeing back to Arizona had never seemed as desirable. Time- that sadistic little mistress- sped up if possible and before I knew it I was chugging down Main Street in my decaying old truck – the love of my life – and headed straight to hell.

Forks High School consisted of four large whitewashed buildings, complete with trellises of climbing ivy and rose bushes. It was raining – of course it was raining – as I walked to reception to register. As far as small towns go, Forks didn't disappoint. Of course they knew who I was. I smiled and nodded. Yes I was Isabella Swan, yes I was the Chief's daughter, of course Renee remembered them, and she'd had nothing but kind words. Finally, muttering about classes I extricated myself from her incessant chatter and studied my timetable. Calculus. First thing on a Monday morning. Great. Now all I had to do was have a spectacular fall, and my life would be complete.

Surprisingly enough my first day at school went by without pomp or fanfare, and I sent a silent prayer heavenwards for small mercies. I'd endured a number of curious stares, and yeh I'd stumbled a few times, but hell it could have been worse. On my first day in junior school in Arizona I'd caused a mini pile up in the corridor, and even that was considered minor on the scale of what I _could_ have done.

I sat at lunch with a curly haired girl who took it upon herself to act as my personal spokesperson. She'd also had the foresight to introduce me as Bella. Like I said, small mercies. Most of lunch had passed in a haze of introductions, while I tried my best to remain inconspicuous, and not blush with every "Hey, New girl!" that passed my way.

The day ended with a chorus of _See ya Bella's_, and I drove home. In the rain.

It was raining when I made dinner, and it was raining when I went to bed.

It was raining when I brushed my teeth the next day, and it rained as I drove my baby to school.

I parked in much the same place I had yesterday, seems like Forkians are creatures of habit-When it came to parking spaces at any rate. I sloshed my way through puddles to my first class, hanging my coat up as I entered the classroom. I was greeted with a few smiles as I sat down, and I'd love to say I felt a rush of camaraderie, or instant belonging. But I didn't. I have a hard time opening up to people, and sometimes I come off as arrogant – but hell two more years and I'm outta here anyway.

History passed in a maelstrom of dates and Generals and I trudged to the rest of my classes, curly haired girl in tow. Turns out me and curly top – or Jessica, whatever- had most of our classes together. She was cheerfully determined to be my friend and lunch found me seated at the same table as yesterday, with Jessica's friends.

Deciding to make an effort, I actively listened to the conversation, contributing opinions when called upon. When the mindless chatter turned to spring dance however, I tuned out. Me and dances, we're like negatively charged ions, you can only fuse us together if you're impervious to explosions. I've found most people aren't. So I tend to abstain – which is good cause I've heard abstinence builds character.

Maybe I'll even use that as my yearbook quote.

I studied the cafeteria instead. It was seated in much the same way as yesterday. Seemed Forkians lacked variety in their seating arrangements as well. But hey, judge not and all, right? Surprisingly enough, there didn't appear to be much segregation between groups, everyone seemed to be yelling across tables, or waving to someone across the way.

All tables that was, except one.

In the far left hand corner, beside a large window, was a table filled with possibly the most beautiful people I have ever seen. There was something about them, and the more I stared the more transfixed I became. There were five of them, seated in a semi-circle, illuminated from behind with the pale grey light streaming through the window.

Everything about them seemed to... sparkle. Their hair, their eyes, even their frickin teeth. They were so _shiny_. They _gleamed_, and gosh darn it, I couldn't look away.

I Dunno - maybe I was half-magpie.

I found myself asking curl- Jessica- about them before I could stop myself.

"Oh!" she giggled, shooting a significant look to a pale-blond girl seated across the table.

"They're the Cullen's and the Hales. Both the families moved here like a year back. Apparently the parents are like best friends, and the kids literally grew up together. They're like Uber-rich."

"Oh" I said confused, Uber-rich and Fork's?

"Yeah", Jessica continued, "The two blondes, that's Jasper and Rosalie Hale, their dad's like this way important statesman or something. He spends most of his time in Washington, and the mother's like some sort of conservationist."

"Oh", I nodded, staring back over.

Jessica was clearly in her element, eyes gleaming as she tossed her curls back.

"Yeah, so the three dark haired ones, they're Emmett, Edward and Alice. They're Doctor and Mrs Cullen's kids. Emmett's the big guy, with all the muscles, he's hot right!"

"Eh, yeah sure" I said, half listening.

"Yeah, but like, I wouldn't bother, cause they're like, all together," Jessica said,

"What do you mean?"

"Like they're all couples, Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper's going out with Alice."

Figures, pretty people tend to stick together.

"What about the other one?"

"Edward? Oh yeah" Jessica said laughing, shooting another look at the pale-blonde,

"he's like totally gorgeous but like, I wouldn't bother again."

"Oh, no that's not what I meant" I blushed, cursing my pale skin, as the blonde snorted in derision.

"Yeah, but he's like such a jerk anyway. They all are, they just keep to themselves, and like whatever you know." Jessica said picking her tray up as the bell rang.

"They're not that bad" a quiet brown haired girl – Angela, I think- said in defence.

I liked Angela, she seemed made of the same cut as Charlie and me, and what can I say, sisters should stick together. As it turns out, Angela was in English with me, and I let her lead the way from the cafeteria, leaving the glamorous little quintet sparkling away in our wake.

* * *

_A/N: I'm beginning to think I have something against time myself! Anydoodles, Hope you likey!_


	3. Chapter 2: Liquid Silver

_A/N:woo hoo! 1 review! I so totally rock! Thanks rocknroll! - can i call you rocknroll?- this ones for you!_

* * *

Chapter 2: Liquid Silver

Mindnumbing.

Thats the only way i can describe English; Absolutely and utterly mind-numbing. We were discussing the role of Mercutio's death and whether it acted as the catylyst of Romoes death. Of course it did. It was the pivotal turning point in the play, but according to some guy named Eric – it wasn't.

O-kay...

The reading list itself was mediocre; Austen, both the Bronte's and of course the ever unshakable Shakespeare. Not that I have anything against them, I don't, but its just so... done...How's about a bit of variety people? Tolstoy, Plath, Byron, maybe a bit of Dostoevsky – just to shake things up a bit.

I was sitting next to Angela and a blonde haired guy, in the second last row. Turns out Mr. Sparkles number five, the single one – Edmund, or something along those lines – was also in the class. He was sitting in the left hand corner of the back row, and somehow, even with the dingy fluorescent lighting, he seemed to glow. Shimmered, and the rest of the class suffered in comparison. Only he stood out.

He was lighter, brighter and altogether more defined. Like he was just freshly coloured in. It was oils versus colour pencils, and oils won, hands down.

I only heard him speak once -an affirmation of his presence in class – and seems like his voice is blessed with pretty genes too.

Lucky bastard.

It was smooth and rich, with an undertone of something darker – untamed. Almost feral. It was deliciously decadent, and velvety, like chocolate covered strawberries, or something – sharper – more penetrating.

Metallic- like liquid silver.

It trickled down my throat like honey, and I wanted him to speak again. Wanted to capture his words on my tongue and hold them. Savour them - See if they tasted as good as they sounded. I wondered what would happen if he actually spoke an entire sentence. I had visions of launching myself at him and decided that particular thought would have to be very, very closely monitored.

Angela was in physics after English and she left with a small smile and a see you tomorrow. I could really see the two of us getting along. She didn't come off as pretentious, and as nice as Jessica was, her little habit of interjecting "like" after very second word was beginning to grate on my nerves. I had gym next, and the prospect sent little waves of nausea sweeping over me. I carelessly picked up my books, still swallowing in fear, only to have them fall all over the floor - And straight on blondies foot.

Smuck.

"Oh my God, i'm so sorry" i said, red staining my cheeks immediately.

"Dont worry about it" blondie said, stooping down to help me pick them up.

"You're Isabella right? The chiefs daughter? Im Mike"

"Yeh" i replied. "its just Bella though"

"Ah, Bella" he replied, "Bella the belle. Meulto Bella!"

He was grinning widely and the best I could muster was a weak smile.

"So what's your next class? Need help finding it?"

"Ah, its gym" i said, swallowing again, "I think i got-"

"that's my class too" Mike interjected, " C'mon I'll walk you."

Maybe he noticed my trepidation because he quickly asked if I was okay.

"Oh no, yeah I'm fine, it's just me and gym" I said, taking a deep breath, gesturing at the floor "you know, like with the books. No – I've, no hand eye co-ordination. At all."

"Ah" Mike said, grinning, "don't worry" he said leaning in close and winking. "I wont let you get picked last!"

Perfect.

Gym was, as expected, disastrous. I caused a mini pile up, and most people laughed. Although they were the ones left standing. The ones on the floor weren't _quite_ as accommodating. I saw Mike buckle over once from laughing so hard. But he was true to his word. I hadn't been picked last – small mercies right. I recognised a few people from my other classes, and the pale-blonde, Jessica's friend from lunch, was there too. She was at the bottom of the pile-up though, so I'm going to assume I'm not her favourite person.

Mike walked me to my car after gym finished. It was weird, and kinda unnecessary, but he insisted so I relented. He was talking animatedly, wild hand gestures and easy laughter, and I couldn't help it. I laughed along. He was infectious in that cute sort of –little-brother-type thing. I wanted to take him home, stick him in jammies and feed him cookies. There was a certain twist to his smile though, that made me think our musings weren't exactly on the same page. So I beat a hasty retreat and waved goodbye from the safety of my monster truck.

I arrived home to pouring rain. What else?

Charlie had cooked dinner today and we ate in companionable silence. Him with his newspaper, me with my latest hardback – I'm a bit of a die-hard reader. Quelle horreur, I know. I cleaned up afterwards- Charlie went to watch his game- thus establishing a silent acknowledgement of a routine. Separate days cooking and cleaning. It was comfortable and peaceful, just how we liked it.

Did I ever wonder what it would be like to have a full house?

Sure.

I've always wanted a younger brother or sister – hence my fraternal feelings towards mike – but there was no point in procrastinating. Spilt milk, water under the bridge and all that jazz. Life deals you a certain hand, and you have to accept it– or else you bet big and hope for the best... lucky I'm not a gambler.

I spent the evening e-mailing Renee and a few friends in Arizona. They were short emails. There wasn't really much to tell. I finished my homework and even re-wrote a few English essays on topics I'd already covered . I re-arranged my room too. Moved the dresser over besides my bookshelf, and shuffled the wardrobe into the middle. In the end it made my room look smaller, so I moved it all the way back again. Five days had passed since i'd moved to Fork's. That was one hundred and twenty hours. So I guess I was surviving... It was only T Minus One year, 11 months, 3 weeks and 2 days left to my voluntary – sort of- banishment in Forks.

Oh dear shit – I'm not going to last.

I was on my way to the bathroom when Charlie called me from downstairs.

" Bella?"

"Dad."

"You remember Billy Black?"

"Should I?"

"Yeah, he used to fish with us when you were younger."

"That's probably why I don't remember him dad, I tend to block out painful memories. You know that." I was leaning over the balcony now, swinging my legs through the railings.

"Ha, very funny Bells."

Huh. I wasn't being funny. Go figure.

"What about him Dad?" I said as Charlie walked out to the landing to talk.

"He and the boys down in La Push are having a barbeque over the weekend. You want to come? Billy's kid Jacob will be there too, you remember him right?"

I didn't, but that's beside the point. Charlie likes to believe that I actually like Fork's, and who am I to disillusion him? Besides it's good he has an imagination, keeps the mind exercised. Keep's it young_._

"Other kids from the reservation will be there too. Should be fun. So what you think?"

He looked quietly optimistic, and I hated to disappoint him, so I said yes. Anything to make the hours pass.

Really, anything at all. Hell at this stage I'd start colour co-ordinating my drawers if it made the minutes go faster.

Charlie went back to watching his game and I swung my legs out of the banister, smacked it against the railing, and hobbled off to the bathroom. I examined my face as I was brushing my teeth, and as always was left sighing. I have limp brown hair, pale skin and even limper brown eyes. Sometimes I wish my name wasn't Isabella. Calling me Isabella Swan was a misnomer from the get go. I should have been called Jane. Plain Jane matches. Plain Bella is just an oxymoron. Who knows, maybe Renee was practising an exercise in contradiction when she named me.

I felt a bout of angsty teenage hormones envelop me, and I went to bed thoroughly dejected. The rain continued to pound relentlessly outside, matching my mood, and ensuring I got little to no sleep that night. I tossed and turned continuously, matching the rhythm of the rain, and slipped in and out of nameless dreams. I woke the next morning to discover I had a pounding headache, and twenty minutes to go before school started.

Well shit.

This day already looks to be a winner.

I heaved myself out of bed, threw on the first clothes I found, grabbed a granola bar from the cabinet, grabbed a jacket from the coat-hook and hauled ass to my truck. I didn't slip, thankfully. I had ten minutes to make the five minute drive to school, park and run to my first class – double biology. I found myself glad, for the first time ever, that Fork's was so ridiculously small. Seriously, it was more or less one large street, and a few random side-lanes.

I parked in my normal spot – sigh, predictable, predictable little Forkians – and went to slip my rain jacket on. Only to discover I had grabbed Charlie's fishing coat, complete with bait hooks in the pockets, and no rain hood.

Great. Just fan-fucking-tastic.

it was, of course, pissing rain outside. My head gave a large painful throb, and my bad mood from the night before, escalated to tantrum-esque proportions.

The rain was pounding, my head was pounding and I was in bloody Fork's. I must have done somthing horrific in my past life to deserve this.

The way I looked at it though, I had two choices; it was either use Charlie's jacket or go to class like a drowned rat. In the end my shirt made the decision for me, it was white, so I stuck the smelly thing on, grabbed my books and ran for class. My hair was plastered to my face in seconds, and the rain was getting heavier so I decided to take a short-cut to the labs across the grass. Bad mistake Bella darling. Bad mistake. The grass was saturated from the heavy rain and was, at the moment, little more than a green coloured pond.

And what did Bella do?

Why Bella did what Bella does best. She fell right in of course.

Ugh.

I-Fucking-Hate-Forks.

Gritting my teeth, I picked up my water-logged books and sludged my water-logged body off to biology. I made it in just before the bell rang. Everyone was already seated though, and I steadfastly ignored their stares as I hung Charlie's jacket up, and made my way to the top of the class, where Mr. Varner was waiting for my note.

"Ah, Isabella , the chief's daughter, of course." He said, looking curiously at my bedraggled state.

I didn't have the energy to explain. So I didn't bother.

"Well" he said, when it was clear I wasn't going to be more engaging, "I have a sea t for you right there. Looks like I'm finally going to have an even class."

I looked to where he was pointing, and two things occurred simultaneously: My heart lurched, and my stomach sank.

It was Mr. Sparkles-number-five. Mr. Chocolate voice. Mr. Sparkles of the sparkles group.

Crap.

"Over there Ms. Swan, besides Edward." Varner repeated when I didn't move.

"Oh right" I said, shaking myself out of my stupor, and mumbling an apology I made my way to the desk.

His name was Edward. Of course, I knew it had been something quaint like that. I could hear random snickers as I went, and my face was beet red by the time I sat down. I looked up briefly to see Mike wink at me from across the room and I shot him an embarrassed smile, before looking up at Edward. He didn't look at me as I sat down, which was good, because up close he was even shinier than I'd thought.

More Perfect.

His eyes were an odd brownish-yellow colour, with scattered flecks of gold. Almost butterscotch-y. And his hair...well, I could have extolled about the virtue of his God-like face for a while, but I'm not a fan of gratuitous prose, so I'll sum it up in two words.

Shit. Hot.

And then some.

I turned away before he realised I was staring and slopped my biology book on the table. It landed with a loud splat, and a large drop flew and hit Mr. Sparkles square between the eyes.

At least my clumsiness has a talent right?

I looked up in horrified embarrassment, and I was just about to apologise, when he looked at me. Those strange caramel eyes looked straight at me, travelled from my dripping hair, down to my saturated, grass-stained jeans, up to my book, and back to my reddened face. Then, without a word, he turned away. Shifted his hair chair over and went straight back to ignoring me. My apology stuck in my throat and choked.

It was an appraisal - and a sharply delivered dismissal.

I felt it acutely, somewhere between my ribs and my chest bone, and it throbbed. Violently. Tears pricked my eyes and I furiously blinked them away. Seriously, what a prick. No wonder Jessica was so down on him, he really was a jack-ass. Well, two can play that game. I slammed the cover of the book open and forcefully flicked the pages to the right chapter.

Ha, hope the drops ruin his pretty little rich shirt.

Varner was discussing cell division in class, a topic I had already covered in Arizona, but I took notes anyway. It was a double period -of course it was- and the seconds dragged by. There was one point when I was convinced time was actually going backwards – she really does hate me – and with each second that dragged, my anger at being treated like a nothing was steadily rising. I was in serious danger of throwing something at Sparkles - maybe my book, seeing as he likes it so much.

I'm not a very aggressive person, I'll avoid confrontation like the plague, if I can. But this – this was different. Normally I get angry very quickly and then it dies out. Up then down, like a see-saw. But it felt different this time. It was slower – a pool of fire in my belly that was slowly smouldering, and gathering heat. Gathering intensity, and – call me sadistic – but I was really looking forward to letting it explode.

Classes are divided into 40 minutes each period, and as soon as the interminable 80 minutes were up, I was up and out of my seat, books in my hand and ready to leave. The fire in my belly wouldn't let me go like that though, so I turned around and looked straight at Sparkles.

"It was great _talking _to you, _Edmund._ See you next time."

Ha! Put that in your pipe and _choke_ on it, pretty boy.

Mike was waiting outside and smirking, I whirled and left. My foot caught as I walked out the door and I tripped, my books naturally ending up everywhere.

Sigh.

Life's a bitch like that.

* * *

_any love?......any at all.... no.....*slinks away, tail between legs..*_


	4. Chapter 3: Honey and Gold

_A/N: Howdy all_

* * *

Chapter 3: Honey and Gold

I rushed to the bathroom at morning recess, and attempted to repair my somewhat _scandalous_ appearance. I stuck my hair in a bun, wiped most of the mud of my jeans, hid Charlie's bait hooks in an inside pocket and even wiped some mud of my boots. I flicked a customary glance in the mirror, sighed when the reflection showed little improvement, and then pulled my granola bar out of my backpack.

Finally, breakfast.

I made my way to class, still damp, and sat in a seat near the back window. I had pop culture before lunch, a class I hadn't actually taken back home, but Fork's didn't offer Political Science, so I substituted. I was still vague on any actual similarities between the subjects – but hey, politics is all just dirty showbiz right?

It had stopped raining outside, but the clouds were a particularly violent shade of grey – almost black, really- which made me think it was naught but a brief interlude.

There was a peculiar feeling in the air – electric – menacing - almost suffocating.

The clouds hung low, and dangerously heavy. Everything was dark and dank and even as I watched a fluorescent light fizzed and popped, then flickered out.

A small chill ran down my spine.

Empty classroom, dead lighting and threatening weather.

If this wasn't a stage for a horror movie then my name wasn't –

A chair squeaked and I almost shrieked in terror, whirling around so fast I cricked my neck.

_Breathe Bella, breathe. _

I was terrified of what I would find, Freddie Krueger or, oh God, _clowns_ or –

Eric – the Shakespeare butcher.

I think my terror here is justified though. Eric's views on Shakespeare are quite frankly, utterly bone-chilling.

More people started trickling in, and I waved when I saw Jessica, ushering her to come sit beside me. I think I needed the mindless distraction, because honestly, I was intensely ashamed of myself. I had just been scared by clouds. Clouds. You know things are bad when the weather starts giving you heebie-jeebies. I resolved to give myself a severe talking-to when I got home - If the trees didn't startle me that is.

Seems like Fork's had accelerated my prophesised fall into dementia.

Jessica took one look at me and wrinkled her nose.

"What happened to you?"

I shrugged, blushed and said I fell – she seemed to find this highly humorous – me, not so much.

"You're so funny" she snorted, "Lauren even told me about gym, we should like, make you wear a caution sign or something!"

Why thank you Lauren. That has officially made my day.

The class was practically full. There were only two seats left in the front row when class officially began. Notes were being passed from desk to desk, when the door opened and two more students walked in.

Huh, full class so.

I automatically looked up, and regretted it almost instantly.

It was Mr. Sparkles –

_Mr. I've-got-my-head-stuck-so-far-up-my-ass-I-can't-breathe_ –

And his sister, Alice.

I think I'm gonna have to place a restraining order against Mr. Murphy and his sidekick, law. Their affections are both unwarranted and unappreciated.

It was a bit weird that both Edward and Alice were juniors, but I officially didn't care anymore, I'm pretending they don't exist. Starting now. There. There's nothing but two empty spaces in the front row. Nobody there.

At all.

As of this moment, my disturbing obsession with shiny, sparkly things is no more. Done, finite, auf Wiedersehen et etc.

I resiliently kept my head down throughout class, taking notes and alternatively smiling at Jessica when she whispered something. Most of the time though, I stared outside, willing this day to just finish already. No such luck, darn.

Popular culture was an abstract subject, dealing with social norms and acceptable cultural behaviours. It was the study of the concept of the social mould – what society defines, and what you inevitably accept. Like in Fork's. Society said you will park in the same place every day.

So it has been, so it shall be, and so it shall remain.

Forever and ever, Amen.

Call it teenage rebellion, but the more I listened, the more I wanted to go and park my truck in good ol' Mikey's spot. If anyone questioned me, I'd just say it was a social experiment – for the betterment of society ... it could work.

It was during this benign course of musing that the unexpected occurred. There was about twenty minutes left to lunch, and most of the class were daydreaming, passing notes, or in my case, still staring out the window. Ms. Anthrope was rabbiting on about the effect of media, her voice a steady drone against the sound of the rain – a gentle sort of humming, and when it stopped – I started. In one cataclysmic movement, I looked up, our eyes locked, and then it happened.

She asked me a question.

"Bella," she said encouragingly.

"What do you think of the effect of the media on popular culture? Do you think it creates it, or does the media merely officiate what has already occurred in society?"

She looked on expectantly, and I tried my hardest to muster an answer but instead, I elegantly replied with an "Erm..." and then blushed.

"Yes?"

"I think it's a bit of both, really" I eventually stammered, "but I think the media plays a smaller role in the creation of culture, and more in the broadcasting of it."

"Okay, good, why do you think that?"

Crap.

"Because, culture and social norms, are created by people and communities, even families. Its human flaws and peculiarities that create acceptable behaviour. All the media can do is merely display it. It's like –"

Surprisingly enough, inspiration had come to me mid-speech, and I was actually making a sound argument, when a derisive snort ripped through the air.

I turned, fairly certain that it was – and I was right – the Jack Ass.

"Edward?" Ms. Anthrope said.

She looked shocked, and she wasn't the only one, Jessica was now sitting ram-rod straight, staring right at spark- jack ass – with her mouth wide open.

"You have something to add?"

"Yes" he drawled lazily, and even Alice looked up surprised.

"To claim that the media has no effect on society, or in the creation of socially acceptable behaviour, is at its most basic, completely wrong."

Stupid, shiny little boy.

His chocolate voice spread in ripples across the class. drifting and weaving, like little strands of gold and honey, all mingling and tingling, till it wasn't the word's you were listening to anymore, but the resonance – the lilt – the decadence infused inflection.

And everyone was caught in the spell.

Even Ms. Anthrope.

"Oh!" she fluttered, nervously smoothing her hair, "A-and why do you think that?"

He looked at me then, with those amber coloured eyes, and smirked. I locked my eyes to his and didn't waver.

He wanted a challenge?

He got one.

"The media paves the way for social norms, because it takes societies hidden secrets –all the dysfunction, the sex, lies and general debauchery – and shows it to the world. Makes it accessible, and in doing so, makes it acceptable – makes it the norm."

He turned the force of those honey eyes back on Ms. Anthrope, and she fluttered on away.

"Good point, good point Edward," and her hands were smoothing her skirt and brushing stray crumbs, and Dear God, did she just twirl her hair?

But Edward was continuing on, oblivious.

"Society creates the concept, but it's the media that creates the final product."

He turned and looked at me again, "So no offence, but your argument was completely wrong."

His lips quirked and one corner twitched up, before he said,

"_Becca,_ is it?"

That smug son of a bitch.

Jessica was twitching in her seat and I could almost imagine the gossip at lunch: _Oh-my-gosh-Edward-Cullen-totally-slated-Bella-in-class-and –it-was-so-funny._

My eyes narrowed, the fire in my belly re-ignited, and my mouth opened of its own accord.

"None taken. There was a point I was trying to make, and maybe if you hadn't prematurely shot-off you would have heard that, but I guess you got a little over-excited."

I was going to blush when I thought about that later, but right now I was too livid to care.

The entire class was in shock, Jessica literally quivering in her seat as she spun her head back and forth between the two of us. In a way it was good. I was glad I got to make her day a little bit more exciting. Mike was watching with a confused look on his face, and Alice – now Alice was grinning widely, her beautiful eyes glinting wickedly as the spectacle unfolded.

"What I was _trying_ to say was that the media can merely display what has already been created. You even said that yourself. So no offence, _Edmund_, but all your pretty little speech did was finish off what I started. Maybe next time you should try having an original thought."

The bell rang, and not a moment too soon, cause honestly, one more second and I swear Jessica would have literally exploded. I screeched out of my chair, angrily picking up books of the table.

Jessica was still staring at me open-mouthed.

"What?" I said finally.

"Nothing. Just, you do know his name is Edward right?"

I managed not to roll my eyes.

Mike was waiting outside class, a bemused expression on his face, and he walked to lunch with jess and I, eventually dragging his friends to sit with us. I could see this becoming a lunchtime routine. Everyone got along with everyone else, and it was like a fated amalgamation of two Forkian groups. And it seemed centred around me.

My reaction though?

Complete indifference. I was still too riled up over what had happened to even pay attention. I just did not get what his problem was. The guy barely knew me from Eve, but seemed determined to be the main antagonist in my short little tragedy. Nobody else seemed to have a problem with me – apart from the pale blonde, Lauren, but I squished her, so...

And that's when I really and truly decided to forget about the Cullen's. They were isolated from the rest of the school, and seemed pretty content in doing so, and who am I to disagree. It was over. Game, set and match.

The rest of the day passed without event, and it was with a sigh of relief that I trudged out to my truck. Thursday was nearly over. Just Friday left and then two days of oblivion. Thank God. I breathed in the earthy smell of my baby, and drove home quickly, waving at a few people as I left. Charlie wasn't home when I arrived, and I realised it was my turn to make dinner. I really did _not_ have the energy for that today. The lack of sleep from the night before was catching up on me, and all I wanted to do was curl into a tiny little ball and drift away. So I took the easy way out. Pasta and a jar of sauce.

1, 2, 3 dinner.

I browned some mince to go with it, and added some sliced mushrooms too. I didn't want to seem like a total cop out.

As per the routine, Charlie cleaned up after, and I went to take a long, steamy shower.

I was feeling... I dunno – really bugged about something.

It was Fork's, and the weather, and the mindless chit-chatter. And I missed my mom, and friends, even Phil –

I just, I wanted to go home.

Go back to what was familiar, and mine. To _my_ school. To _my_ niche. Where I didn't drown in puddles. To where I wasn't verbally attacked in class.

Just – home.

The heat and the sun, and the dryness.

The hot water streamed down my face, mingling with my tears and drowning out unquenchable sobs. I just wanted someone to understand that it _sucked_ being here, and to tell me I would be okay, but there wasn't, and I just wanted –

Mom –

My mom. But I couldn't call her.

If she knew, if she knew how sad I was, she'd drag me back and sacrifice her time with Phil, and I –

I would just feel worse.

Selfish.

And I wouldn't be able to live with that.

So I was stuck. It was catch-22.

The hopelessness rushed through me and I pounded my hands against the wet tiles, hard. It would probably bruise tomorrow. But I needed something, anything to stop the anguish, the misery, the unbearable _loneliness_ of it all.

Eventually I stopped, and the water grew cold, and I knew I had a choice to make. I could either suck it up, and get over my aversion to Fork's. Or, I could live my life in a constant state of distress. And make Charlie and everybody else miserable as well.

The latter didn't sound so appealing. So suck it up it was.

I took two Panadol's that night, and fell into an exhausted dreamless slumber. I woke the next day, and it was both better and worse. Better because I was going to accept Fork's as it was, and worse because I knew I had a single biology lab after lunch. But I would deal with that when I got there.

The morning flew by, and before I knew it, it was lunch and I was sitting with Mike and Angela and the rest of our motley crew, and for the first time, I was having fun. The conversation was easy and fun and I didn't have to pretend. I was just being, and it was peaceful. It wasn't that I instantly forgot about home. I would never forget about home. I've just found it's easier to move like water, than stand still like stone. In time, water rushes onwards.

Stone just crumbles.

I deliberately kept my eyes away from the left hand side of the cafeteria. Although I did accidently look up once, when I was laughing, and saw Alice looking at me with a speculative look on her face. I felt her eyes on me more than once after that, but I didn't look up again. It was just unwanted drama.

I dragged my feet to biology with Mike, and just as we parted he jokingly reminded me not to accidently stab Edward with my pencil. Funny thing about that, he didn't know how right he was. But I was determined to live my life Cullen free, so there would be no stabbing.

There wouldn't.

I got there first, and had my books out and my head down when he entered. I heard when the stool moved and the distinct sound of book's placed on the table. And then I heard his voice.

"Becca" he acknowledged, head facing the other way.

"Edmund." I replied, head still safely down.

Then we went back to ignoring each other for the rest of the class. The bell rang, and I gathered my books, and Edward spoke.

"Nice talking to you, Becca, till next time."

"I live for our chat's Edmund, till next time."

I couldn't let him have the last word.

* * *

A/N:_SO all that stuff about pop culture, im not a 100% on how accurate it is. I did wikipedia it, and yeh the general gist is societal norms etc, but edwards and bellas views are totally my own and are most probably completly wrong! but hey creative license and all that right!?_

_OK, so there's a hidden word in this chapter somewhere, just me being my dorky self! so cookies for you if you find it!_

_Rocknroll: I luv tht u let me call you rocknroll, most people dont, mainly cause it ends up being something rude! u rock!_

_Ori 1: WOW, that was probably the nicest review I've ever gotten! thank you! I hope the rest of this lives up to your expectations!_


	5. Chapter 4: Rebel, am I

_A/N: Yes the name has changed and I'll explain below! first things first, I'm gonna suggest listening to Rebel, by I.I.O when reading this chapter. It's on youtube, so no excuses!_

* * *

Chapter 4: Rebel, am I

Saturday dawned grey and cloudy – quite the surprise for the masses there. But it wasn't raining, so it wasn't all bad. Charlie had said he was going fishing the night before, and true to his word he had left before I got up. I checked to see if he had taken the right jacket, then text him to let him know his bait hooks were hidden in the inside pocket. I had a feeling he would query that – he is a cop after all – and sure enough, five minutes later I got a message back.

It was simple and to the point.

"Why?"

Now that, my dearest darling daddy is a very long story. A very long, embarrassing story and not one I necessarily want to share.

So I just...neglected to text him back.

I spent the morning doing laundry, replied to some emails I had received, flicked through some cable television, then went back to reading my hardback. Charlie came back around lunchtime, empty-handed and quite morose; so I fixed us both a sandwich to tide us till the barbeque, and distracted Charlie with questions about my truck. Charlie left around four to watch the game over at Billy's, and asked if I wanted to come with him. I declined, citing a heavy homework load. It was only a partial lie; I did have homework, nothing that couldn't be done on Sunday, but – well – I really didn't want a lift down in Charlie's cruiser.

I have issues.

I pottered around a bit, got bored, then drove down to Main Street and picked up a call card so I could call Renee. She was undeniably enthusiastic when I called. Turned out Phil had won his last couple of games and was a shoo-in for player of the year. A wave of nostalgia washed over me at Renee's bubbly, gushing voice. She sounded so happy, so carefree – so at peace.

And it was great, it really, really was. This was why I had moved to Fork's after all. So Renee could sound like this. Her reality was at stark contrast with mine though, and I faked a cheery, upbeat voice; waxing lyrical about the upcoming barbeque and glorifying the connection with my new found friends. I'm not a great liar, but Renee apparently didn't hear any contradiction in my voice and was full of high spirits. She squealed delightedly at the speed of my acceptance, laughed uproariously at Mrs. Cope wondering if she remembered any of them, and giggled in girly delight at the thoughts of Mike.

"Just a friend mom, honestly" I said, cringing at the image in my mind.

"Now Bella" she scolded, "you never know where this could go, just be open darling and –"

I cut her off before she mentally scarred me.

"Mom, honestly there isn't, and uh, look I need to go. I'll call you tomorrow. Ok?"

"Okay honey, I love you."

"Love you too mom."

I sighed when I hung up, the all too familiar home-sickness creeping up again. I was trying hard to stay positive, to remain upbeat – to just stay chipper. But it was a long uphill struggle, and I was already bone tired and battle weary. It was the boredom and the quietness – the utter stillness of life in Fork's. I was hemmed in on all sides: by the clouds, the rain and the never-ending green- tinted squishiness.

The very size of Fork's was annoying me. It was small and tiny and inconsequential – just a big huge nothing, and I was stuck straight bang in the middle of it.

I felt claustrophobic – suffocated – and I wanted to do something, anything to just break out –

Shake things up –

Up, up and around-

Make it feel like I was alive. That I was living –

That this was all somehow, worthwhile.

I hadn't expected to feel to this bad when I left Phoenix. But the best laid plans right?

I changed into a thick blue jumper and brown corduroys, before I left for the Black's house. It hadn't rained all day, but the barbeque was outside, and it was bound to be chilly, so I thought it best to err on the side of caution. I went to grab my keys from the hook in the kitchen, and found the sheet of paper on which Charlie had left detailed directions for me. My heart constricted, and I felt a rush of emotion. It was such a small gesture – so normal -but it was the thought behind the action that made my eyes tear up. It had been so long since someone took care of me that way – and it felt, different – nice. Comforting.

The Black's lived out in La Push, on the old Quileute reservation, just a few minutes outside of Fork's. After a quick perusal of Charlie's directions, I hopped in my truck and drove down. I have a pretty wicked sense of direction. I'd needed to, growing up with Renee.

I arrived to the sound of loud laughter, and the smoky smell of cooking meat. There was a large crowd at Billy's that night. The families on the reservation had grown up together, and were extremely close. Most had shown up for the barbeque, bringing extra plates of food and mixed salads. I bought the apple pie I had made the night before, and placed it on the already groaning table. The Black's house was large, homey and fashionably shabby. I found Charlie in the sitting room, with a bottle of beer, watching the playbacks of the afternoon game. He introduced me to Billy, a smiling old man with laugh lines etched deeply into his wise face. He was in a wheelchair, a result – Charlie had said – of an accident the year before. He was loud and exuberant and immediately launched into a lengthy reminisce of my childhood days. I was shuffling my feet, desperately thinking of polite ways to escape, when I was rescued by a tall kid in a checked shirt, black boots and an easy smile.

"Dad!" he boomed, placing his hands on the handles of Billy's wheelchair, "Come out here will ya, I think Harry's messed up the grill."

He turned Billy about, and shot me a quick wink over his shoulder as he left. I mouthed a silent thank you and smiled, then turned to frown at Charlie who was chuckling at my expense.

My rescuer turned out to be none other than Jacob Black, the one Charlie had told me about – the one I didn't remember.

Turns out, he didn't suffer from the same memory loss as me.

Jake caught up with me after dinner, steering me away from the "oldies" as he put it, and out back, where preparations for a large bonfire was underway. We sat down on an old tree trunk, chatting away, and pretty soon the fire was blazing, shooting merry red sparks in the night air. A bag of marshmallows was miraculously produced, to everyone's surprise– it was providence, I think - and the caramel smell of burnt sugar was soon wafting in the air.

After I burnt three to a cinder-y mess, Jake took over roasting duties – to save them from my wrath, he said. The night had shaped up to be a pretty good one: the clouds had seen fit to break in places, and a pale waxing moon could be seen, playing a whimsical game of hide and seek with the world below. The air was cool and crisp, and the chilliness of the wind against my face was tempered by hot blasts from the fire.

And I don't know what it was – the presence of the moon, the easiness of Jake's smile, or the beautiful melding of fire and ice – but I was feeling particularly joyful – carefree – just like Renee had earlier. It was a 360 turnabout from my mood before, and I was giddy and buoyant, sharing cracks with Jake and playfully abusing his friends. For the first time since I had arrived in forks, I felt solid. Complete. For some strange reason, Jake and his bizarro group of friends made me feel whole – they made me Bella again.

The fire had begun to die out, and some of the boys were taking turns jumping over it. The air was filled with raucous laughter and friendly insults, as the guys egged each other on. I made sure I kept myself firmly sitting down. Somehow I don't think me and fire jumping are ever going to be compatible. Jake, being a proper host, kept me company.

"So you owe me from before you know" he said, smiling wickedly.

"For what?"

"I rescued you from my dad!"

"Oh yeh, thanks Jake! So what can I do to make it up to you?"

"Hmm" he said, stroking his chin and attempting to look serious.

"Well if you want to make it really worth my while..." he trailed off, grinning widely and waggling his eyebrows.

"Ugh. No. Lech!" I said, smacking him playfully on the arm.

"You sure!?" he said, opening his arms and pursing his lips, "I'd make it- ow, ow stop!" he laughed as I rained punches on him.

"How old are you anyway" I teased, "Like two?!"

"I'm sixteen Bella. Old enough to father chil-. Ok, ok, I'll stop!" He yelled as I raised my hand threateningly

"Boys!" I muttered chuckling and shaking my head at him.

"Bella?"

"Yes Jake?"

"You hit like a girl!"

"News flash smart-ass, I am a girl!"

"Really?" Jake said seriously, "Care to show me!?"

"JAKE!" I yelled laughing so hard my sides hurt.

"What!?" he exclaimed, "I'll show you mine if you show me your-"

I elbowed him so hard he groaned in pain.

"Serves you right" I said, sniffing pettily, and then grinning.

"Jake?"

"Yes Bella?"

"You squeal like a girl."

"News flash smart ass, I am a gi- wait what!?"

We stared at each other, and then burst into hysterics. I was laughing like I hadn't laughed in weeks. Out loud, out of control and unstoppable. And the best part? it was totally and utterly uncontrived.

"So how's your truck running?" Jake asked after, cracking open a coke can.

"She's great I love her. She's my baby."

He stared at me incredulously for a moment, "Baby? "he muttered disbelievingly, then "Girls!" shaking his head.

"She's running great though" I said smiling, "Charlie said he bought it of your dad right?"

"Yeh" Jake replied, "He asked when he found out you were coming, and I fixed up the engine just in time."

"You?" I said, surprised, pointing back to my truck, "You fixed the engine?"

"Yeh, I love cars, love fixing them up. Especially old ones. Oh actually, hey," he said turning towards me with a large beaming smile, "I just finished fixing up a motorbike! You wanna see?"

"You have a motorbike!" I squealed, "Yeah I wanna see! Where is it!?"

I jumped up quickly, nearly losing my balance in my haste, and bounded after Jake; His steps equalling to about three of mine. Jake flicked the lights on when we reached what looked like a small garage, around the side of his house. Inside though, it was a proper workshop, filled with a wicked looking car jack and professional workbenches. An old VW Rabbit was resting on top of stone blocks, and in the corner, where Jake was waiting, was a shiny red motorbike.

"Oh, my God!" I exclaimed, examining it, "you built this!?"

"I fixed it up" Jake replied modestly, "But I did paint it all myself, and see this?" he said pointing to chrome fixtures in the wheels, "I added those myself. Premium alloys!" he boasted proudly.

I stared at him for a moment, loving how excited he looked, and then said, "You know I have no idea what you're talking about right!?"

He rolled his eyes.

"It's great though Jake" I sighed wistfully, "Wish I could have a go."

He looked at me for a moment, contemplating something, then said "We could go, if you want you could have a go now!"

I looked at him incredulously," Are you mad?" I said laughing, "Charlie would kill me if he knew I was on a bike - He'd kill you too!"

"Charlie doesn't have to know!" Jake said, rooting in a cabinet and pulling out two helmets.

"He's inside, watchin the box with dad, and drinking beer! All we have to do is drag the bike out to the dirt path and we can ride!"

He was twirling the helmets in my face, and I was staring from the bike back to the helmet, torn between my desire to ride, and my dangerous ability to fall on even straight surfaces.

"I don't know Jake, I've never been on a bike – and I'm clumsy – like very clumsy."

"I'll teach you, it's easy, just like riding a bike. Come on Bell's!" he taunted, swinging the helmet at me.

I stared for a second, pursed my lips, shook my head and grabbed the helmet from his hands.

I'm a sucker for temptation.

Since it was pitch black out, we put the bike in the back of my truck, and drove the two minutes down to the dirt path. We left my headlights on, since it was my first time on the bike, I figured being able to see what I was doing was probably a necessity.

I couldn't believe I was actually about to do this.

"Jake" I said, skipping around the bike, and running my hands over the handles, "Can I call you Jakey?!"

"You can call me whatever you want Bell's" he said, handing me the helmet. And there it was, that something extra, hidden just behind his carefree words.

I chose to ignore it though.

"Good!" I replied, swinging my leg up and over, till I was seated on the bike. Swinging my hair out of my face, I tugged the helmet on, and flicked up the visor to look at him.

"This is so freaking awesome Jakey!" I squealed.

I sounded giddy but I didn't care, I was really and truly, over-the-top, jumping-over-the-moon, bang-on-the-drums- type happy. Untamed glee was dancing inside of me, and I reacted instinctively to the joy it inspired.

"How do I look" I said, fluttering my eyes stupidly, "Am I a Hell's Angel, or am I?!"

"You're a Hells-Bells, Bell's!"

"Ugh, Dork!" I snorted," Ok, show me what to do!"

Jake launched into full explanatory mode, showing me the proper way to position myself, how to place my hands, how to brake – how to accelerate- And I was taking it all in hungrily, breathing it in like oxygen. I wanted to do this, I really, really wanted to do this – I was taking the days of boredom, the hours of sadness, the minutes of despair, and rolling them into one tight electrical ball of energy.

And I unleashed it on myself- letting the untamed currents sweep through my body, travel through my nerves and jolt my senses. Shocking myself into action –into living.

I have to admit, I got a kick out of it.

Seems my inner Bella is a bit of a bad-ass. I think I like her.

I had a number of false starts after Jake's lecture. I fell off twice and nearly hit a tree, but finally, _finally _- it clicked – I got it, and I blasted off.

It was beyond everything I had expected: the rush, the power, the exhilaration. It was intoxicating, and I felt myself go faster and faster, quicker and quicker, soaring towards the deep black in front of me. I felt wild and free and dangerous.

I was going faster and faster-

And I had adrenalin, not blood pumping through my veins –

Faster and faster-

And the speed spurred me on-

Up, up and up-

And now I was flying in the wind that rushed past me.

Up, up –

And the power of the bike thrummed beneath me, mine to control, mine to command -

And I felt – indestructible – deliciously reckless – like sin.

I was the fire that cursed Prometheus. I was the temptation that damned Pandora. I was the sun that lured Icarus. I was the apple. I was temptation –

And finally, after so long, I was alive.

I could have gone on for hours. When it started to rain though, I figured it was time to get back. I didn't realise how far I'd gone until I got back, to find Jake pacing in front of my truck, the beams from the lights, highlighting the worry on his face.

It didn't quell my sense of elation though, and I floated towards him on wings of euphoria. His face cracked into one heart-breakingly wide grin when he saw me, and, I can't be sure, but I think that was the moment I fell in love with Jacob Black's smile.

With one giant step he was beside me, taking the helmet off my head and joining in on my screams of delight. I was absolutely unstoppable. Bubbles of joy were fizzing through my body and popping in large effervescent bursts. And Jake- my dear, sweet little Jakey- was whooping it up with me. We were running in mad circles and jumping up and down, and all the while the rain was getting heavier, and we were both getting soaked, but it was absolutely and utterly irrelevant. Because tonight, I had just conquered the world. I, Bella Swan, she of the two left feet and rocky standing – had found my sense of balance - my centre of gravity –on a set of wheels and a dirt-path.

When thunder rolled, we knew our time was up, and we loaded the bike back on the truck and drove back still screaming, Jake singing my praises in his loud booming voice. Charlie was getting ready to leave when we got back, and we drove home together, me in my truck and Charlie tail-gaiting me in his cruiser. Jake shot me one last beautiful grin, and it was strange, was absolutely uncanny, but in just a few hours he had become like a blazing ball of fire for me. He became my sun -My light against the darkness of Fork's. And it was as natural as air, to open my arms, and let him shine down on me.

That night marked the change of my life in Fork's.

I woke up on Sunday, and I felt different –rejuvenated, like I had been reborn. I felt like a window had been opened, allowing a bright spectrum of light to enter. And all of a sudden there was colour; Yellow and gold, green and silver, bright red and rusty pink- Everything seemed more alive and nothing–not even the dull greyness of Fork's – could dim it.

I felt like a child again. Last night marked the exact date when dull, responsible, _mature_ Bella, re-embraced her inner-child. I had been reckless, impulsive, careless and rebellious. And I had never felt better.

That's also the night that Jake became my best friend. Which isn't actually that hard to believe – who would be stupid enough to block out their own ray of sunshine?

I started hanging out with Jake and the other kids from the reservation a lot after that. There were bonfires and beach trips, barbeques and cinema trips. There was fishing – which I ditched – and baseball games.

There were trips to the dirt-path too – but that was strictly between Jake and I – it was our secret, our little escape – would have felt wrong to let someone else in.

I got drunk for the first time in Jake's workshop. He "borrowed" a stash of Billy's beer, then me, Jake, Quil and Embry chugged them all down. Turns out, I'm a bit of a lightweight. I had two beers and was promptly declared a lousy drunk. I think Jake's exact term was "floozy", but I was drunk, so I don't really remember.

I do remember falling a lot though – but for some reason it was more funny than embarrassing- maybe I should be drunk all the time.

They drowned me in water before declaring me fit to go home, and _that_ was only one of the reasons I loved them so much. They cared- about me – looked out for me. For once in my life I was able to rebel, and do it knowing I had someone watching my back. I didn't have to be the responsible one anymore, and the liberty it afforded was absolutely-freakin-awesome.

School fell into a comfortable routine too. Our little group sat together each day during lunch, and I grew closer to Angela and Mike as the days passed. Things were still a little awkward with Mike though. That certain gleam in his eyes grew steadier each day, and – to add drama to the opera – I saw it reflected in Jessica's eyes whenever she looked at Mike.

Seems like I had embarked upon my very own Bermuda triangle of teenage romance, and I didn't have the first idea what to do about it. So I pulled the old bury-my-head-in-the-sand approach. I'm not sure how well it worked. Despite all that though, I slowly felt myself acclimatising in Fork's and no longer found myself counting down the minutes to my departure, and as the days passed, I missed Arizona and home, less and less.

I spent a lot of time after school with Angela, and Mike even got me job in his mom's shop –Newton's Outfitters- so I was able to start a somewhat meagre college fund. To my relief, my interactions with the Cullen's – specifically No.5 – were limited. I no longer felt the compulsion to stare at them during lunch, and I made sure to keep my head down during Pop Culture. Once bitten and all...

I saw them a few times as I drove into school. They drove in together, either in a silver Volvo, or a flashy red Mercedes. I would be lying if I said I wasn't curious about them. I wished I knew how their friendship worked; I wanted to know the dynamics of their relationships. I remember Jess had said the Cullen's and Hale's were best friends. So what, were they matched up by their parents? Born to be with each other? Forced together? Or maybe – just maybe- they were so close that they actually loved each other.

The romantic in me wanted to believe that – the cynic in me snorted derisively.

And then there was Edward.

Did he not feel awkward sitting with two couples every day? Was it weird to have his sister and brother locking lips with his best friends? There was so much I wanted to know, and I_ burned_ to ask him the questions, but like I said our interactions were limited.

Each biology lab found us greeting each other with "Becca, Edmund," and ended with "Great talk, lovely chat." And that was that.

We're nothing if not creatures of habit.

A part of me –my sadistic little Bella- looked forward to these exchanges; Looked forward to hearing his velvety voice. I was waiting for the day he would say something else –something different- even if it was just to borrow a pen.

But he never did.

When we had experiments, we did them in silence, if we had to share results; it was done without a word. If one of us forgot our books, we placed one in the middle. It was nothing but silence, silence, silence. Nothing but that eternal "_Becca and Edmund_" forever, and it was the most aggravating thing. I wanted to yell at him till I was blue –shake him till he spoke- kick him till it hurt - but I never did a thing.

Guess I'm a closet masochist.

The days and weeks started to blend into one, and before I knew it, it was mid-February and talk of Valentine's Day was everywhere. I woke that day with a sense of impending doom. It was Thursday, the 14th of February: It was Valentine's Day, and I had double biology first thing. It was enough to make me consider pulling a sickie.

Pity I didn't.

I've only ever received two Valentine's cards. One from a boy named Billy Jackson when I was six, and the other from a German exchange student, who was a little too fond of his schnitzels. Billy later grew up to be my best friend, and totally gay. The German boy flew on home the year after, with a new found appreciation for Krispy Kreme's.

Needless to say, I had no expectations, so when Mike came running up to me in the parking lot, I thought nothing of it. Till he handed me a bright pink envelope that is.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Bell's." He said cheerfully.

"Ah, th-thank's Mike" I stammered, flushing the same shade as the envelope, "You really, shouldn't have."

"Don't be silly" he laughed, awkwardly throwing his arm around my shoulder, as we walked towards the lab, "I wanted to!"

No my dear, sweet little Mikey. You misunderstand; you _really_ shouldn't have.

"Aren't you gonna open it?" he asked as I carefully extricated myself from his arms, and put the card inside my bag.

"Later!" I said shyly, "You know, people looking and stuff." I blushed.

"Ok!" he said, and winked.

Crap.

Mike walked me all the way to my desk, where Edward was already seated, and then shuffled his feet as I took my books out.

"So" he said, when I looked up at him curiously, "You know the Spring Dance is coming up in a few weeks."

I think my heart actually stopped beating.

"Oh, really?" I managed to squeak.

"Yeh", Mike said, running a hand through his hair, "Do you, you know, er – like, want to go with me?"

Oh, dear shit. Lie Bella, lie.

"Oh, erm, spring dance –dancing." I said, my face literally burning. "Erm, when is it on again?"

"Oh, about two weeks- I think – yeh two weeks."

"Oh" I said, faking disappointment "Is that around the first of March?"

"Yeh" Mike said nodding his head.

"I can't that weekend Mike. I'm so sorry; my mom's planning to visit that weekend."

"Oh" Mike stammered, "You can't – can't change it...?"

"I'm sorry Mike, no, that's the only weekend Phil is free... But – but you should go, definitely, and you could take Jess... "

"Uh, yeah" Mike said, looking at the floor. "Yeh, well I better get to- yeh" pointing to his desk and walked away.

My heart sank to my stomach, and little tears pricked my eyelids. I felt awful and cruel. I should have seen this coming. I shouldn't have ignored all the little signals, I should have done _something,_ but I didn't and now – now I had hurt Mike. Darling Mike, who had been nothing but nice to me since I arrived. Sweet little Mike, with the baby face, and childlike humour. Funny Mike, who I wanted to take home and feed cookies. Mike, who I considered my good friend –who now probably hated me.

I blinked furiously and tried to stave away the tears. Edward had stayed quiet throughout the conversation – big surprise there – and after I pushed my hair out of my face, and the tears from my eyes, he whispered a muted, "Becca."

"Edmund" I whispered back. But my heart wasn't in it.

For the first time after class, Mike didn't wait to walk me. I tried not to let it upset me, but I spent the morning willing myself not to cry. By the time I got to Pop Culture, I'd decided to have a talk with Mike, to explain about Jess and me – he deserved that much at least. He wasn't there though, and I made my way to my seat with a sinking feeling. Jess was already seated, and she eyed me curiously as I came in. I smiled wanly at her and busied myself with my notes.

Anything to avoid her questions.

As always I kept my head down, and took brief – and mostly vague – notes. When I heard the word mid-term though, my head jerked up.

"Usually" Ms. Anthrope said, "I have a paper for mid-terms, but this year I'm going to assign projects, to be completed in pairs, and which will count as your mid-term paper."

I looked at Jess and smiled, she could be annoying, but she was surprisingly good at Pop Culture.

"I have assigned partners for all of you, and project topics, I'll call them out now, and you can spend the rest of the class discussing how you want to proceed."

My heart sank even further –if that's possible – resting uncomfortably at the base of my stomach. Anthrope was reading the list out and pretty soon Jess was paired with Tyler, Mike – in absenteeism- was paired with Alice, and –

"Edward Cullen and Isabella Swan."

My heart was officially resting at my feet.

I sat frozen in shock, as Jess shot me a look, her mouth open in amused horror. I didn't move as Jess said bye, I didn't move when she went and sat beside Tyler, and I didn't move when Edward came and sat beside me. We sat for a few minutes, each of us deliberately ignoring the other. Although in my case it was more trying to stop myself from staring at him.

I didn't look at how his eyes glimmered like liquid gold, didn't notice how his hair gleamed like burnished copper. Ignored the way he sat like he was lounging, and most definitely ignored the way the light hit his face – from the edge of his razor-sharp cheekbones, to the tip of his aquiline nose.

I feigned disinterest in the way he emitted his own personal glow, and I bit my lip, just in time, to stop myself from commenting on the fact that sparkles just _weren't_ manly.

I tried – and I'm fairly certain I failed miserably.

His lips quirked into a crooked little smile, and finally he spoke: "Becca."

"Edmund" I replied, and looked out the window.

"This is interesting."

"Yes." I replied.

We went back to ignoring each other.

"So, Becca."

"So, _Edmund_."

"Bella, Edward!" Ms. Anthrope said, fluttering over, to discuss our project. "Now, your topic is Pop culture-versus-high culture," she trilled, "I hope you don't mind the pairing, but you two have such opposing viewpoints. I'm looking forward to _quite_ a project from you!"

She was smiling broadly, genuinely enthusing over the prospect, and I stared at her in disbelief. She actually had no idea what she had just done. She had just set the stage for one giant explosion, and it would be spectacular– one giant mushroom cloud of oblivion.

Oh dear God, she had just re-created Hiroshima.

It seemed Edward's thoughts were on the same page, and he looked at me cautiously.

"Explosion," he said.

"Mushroom," I agreed.

"So..." he said, "How should – we- start?"

"Erm... definitions, I guess."

"Uh" he said smiling, running a hand through that thick coppery mane – I wondered how it would feel in my hands – then mentally slapped myself.

Bad Bella.

"I mean, how do we start the project – like –division wise..."

"Oh – yeh right." I said flustered – stupid shiny hair. "Sorry – just blanked there for a minute."

He smirked arrogantly, and I narrowed my eyes. For a second I had forgotten who I was talking too.

"I can take pop-culture, and you can take high culture."

"Or-" he said, leaning towards me, "we could try doing it together."

"I don't think that's a good idea _Edmund_."

"Why not?"

"Mushroom" I repeated.

He sighed deeply, and pinched the bridge of his nose with his right hand. I had never noticed how elegant his hands were before. They were long and taper-Crap. Focus.

"I suppose, I could do the entire project. We can avoid all potential _mushrooms_ that way."

"No way," I said, shooting him a glare, "Trusting you we'd end up with something that completely misses the point."

He narrowed his ochre coloured eyes, and glared right back at me.

"Are you always this annoying?" he asked, his jaw clenched tight.

"I don't know, are you always this moronic?"

His jaw flexed, "Only when I'm around you, seems you bring out the best in me."

"Well" I snorted, "If this is your best, I'd hate to see you at your worst."

See, five minutes, and we had reached mushroom point already.

"I can do the entire project, and all you have to do is sign your name – and stay out of my way" I said, breaking our steady staring contest.

"Not a chance, _Becca_. I never sign my name to something I haven't read."

"Well then" I said, my teeth grinding together, "Seems we have an impasse."

"Dead-lock" he agreed.

"Stalemate."

"Stand-off."

"..."

Crap. Think Bella,

"Ah..."

The bell rang, and Edward leaned in chuckling.

"_Checkmate_" he whispered.

His honeysuckle breath fanned across my face, and before I knew it, he was out of his seat, in one fluid movement, and slouching elegantly towards the door.

I waited till he was out of sight, then I smiled.

I had to admit, he got me good.

* * *

_A/N:so, wow, i think this is possibly the longest chapter I have ever written! But it had to be done, this chapter is like a catylyst for the rest of the story, pivotal some might say. And its my favourite chapter, I actually really like it! so leave me some sugar if u did too!_

_Now about the name, I changed it cuz honestly I think the Misadventures of Becca and Edmund fits the story line better, simple as! Im not really gonna be going into space and time continuum so I figured its best to change it!_

_Also, Im gonna be goin away on holidays so the next update cud be a while, cuz honestly I wont have time to get an update in before I go. But hey extra long chapter right!!_

_Rocknroll: Theres a line in this chapter thats specifically dedicated to you! you know which one!_

_Ori 1: Again, wow! Thats some praise indeed, and im feeling the pressure now!! eek I really hope it stays good for u!! Also No, i hadnt read the four quartets before, but I googled it, and now I have, thank you for that! It's beautiful!._

_Thats all my lovelies! peace out!_


End file.
